Handle toward my hand
by Inwitari Turelie
Summary: Everyone has boundaries that shouldn't be crossed. Everyone feels stress. Everyone dislikes coworkers or classmates sometimes. Everyone has felt held back. But some people act on this. Does the trio? Slight Ooc. For anyone held back by others in class.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: Dedicated to some very good friends of mine who suffer in a similar way**_

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**She crept down the stairs, the knife in her hands. She could feel its weight pulling at her arm, the coolness of the metal against her skin, constant reminders of its presence. It was strange she thought how her consciousness of the knife was disproportionate to its weight and size. She was not stupid, in fact many agreed she was the brightest witch of her age. She knew this strangeness of the knife was in fact but a personification of her own conscience and nervousness. An idea society placed in the minds of its members to stop people doing as she planned. She almost paused and abandoned her enterprise at this point, she was afraid of what her friends would think, they would not understand, they never had. This last thought however spurred her on. She steeled herself and went on, she would not stand for their behaviour anymore. After all she thought to herself with grim determination the dagger was already in her head and she needed no vision to marshal her the way she was going. She had already taken the handle and made her phantom palpable in reality not just form. **

**As she reached her destination, she whispered the password glad she had had the foresight to find the Slytherin one out, although honestly it wouldn't have been difficult to guess. After all "Always Pure", how difficult was that?**

**Still she knew her boys wouldn't have thought ahead to find the password and this notion gave her some satisfaction. She had known she would have to do it alone she thought as she slunk though the Slytherin common room. After all she was the only one who suffered or at least the one who suffered the most. Those girls just wouldn't stop chatting and then they had the affront to act as if they were actually interested in the lesson and ask inane questions which invariably put the class back. They were both distracting and an obstacle to the speed of the lesson. It wasn't as if their questions actually helped their grades. They were poor at best and then they had the gall to act all superior. It was alright with some teachers such as McGonagall who could keep the class under control and didn't leave room for silly questions. It was not under others. Especially Binns. It was as if people didn't actually want to work. They obviously didn't see the importance of the exams in their real lives she concluded mentally. She knew her own friends were not the best studiers either and sometimes talked but she could deal with them easily, they had learnt to stay quiet. Also they left questions until afterwards to ask her. She couldn't see why other people couldn't do the same with their friends. So all in all she wasn't being too unfair focusing her anger on these two she decided mentally. Besides she reflected as she opened the door to her victims' dormitory although there was a group of **_**them **_**she had recognised from her observation that if a particular pair were removed the annoyance factor was reduced exponentially. **

**She quickly cast a silencing spell and shut the curtains (green of course some small part of her mind noted) before throwing off Harry's cloak. Hermione Granger looked down dagger in hand upon the sleeping Pansy Parkinson. A bell suddenly rang from the surrounds. The spell only kept noise from escaping, it did not keep it out. Hermione almost jumped but stopped herself in time. A line from an old favourite muggle play suddenly sprang to her mind. She earlier calm leaving her she hysterically blurted it out "The bell invites me. Hear it not, Pansy, for it is a knell. That summons thee to heaven or to hell"**

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_**A/N: So what do you think?**_

_**Did you recognise the play? I also referred to it earlier and in the title.**_


	2. Chapter 2

She tossed in her bed trying to ignore the noise from around. People knew that she preferred to sleep in at the weekends and were used to her doing so, it wouldn't do to become overexcited and act differently raising suspicions. With this decided she closed her eyes again with more determination. Until, that was she heard a scream (probably Lavender Brown's) and sat up to find Ginny but inches away.

"Hermione, get up!"

"Why?"

"There's been a murder"

"Alright, guys nice joke but there's no reason to go all Taggart on me, you're missing the Glaswegian accent anyway "

Her response met with blank stares, Purebloods she thought and mentally sighed.

"No, really Hermione, Pansy Parkinson's been killed"

She quickly moved her features into a appropriate expression of shock.

"How?"

"No one knows"

Hermione then hurriedly dressed and went to find her boys, It was of course of utmost importance that they never found out. She knew that they would not understand. They would toss her away like a soiled cloth.

She looked at her hands, no there was no blood to be seen on them she had washed them and washed them til it seemed she must have used all of the ocean. It had only been the first wash which had turned the water incarnadine, but she had thought that you could not after all be too careful. After all Muggles could find bloodstains unseen to eyes on surfaces so surely wizards could do the same if not more. She had done her research, both on real crimes and fictional ones. So it was obviously the basin she had been cleaning for so long, the basin, the basin not her hands, the basin so she wasn't caught. That was it. She did not regret, she was firm in her purpose, she did not regret. It had she had realised been silly to wash her hands, a scourgify charm would have worked better but she tended to still fall back on Muggle means in times of stress. She should have also done so before leaving the room instead of returning to the Griffindor Tower with bloodstained hands and a wrapped knife but she hand been startled by a sound, it had sounded like an owl although she could not fathom how or why one could have been in the dungeons. Still she had the sense to scourgify both the knife, the cloth it was in and the basin. She had shrunken the knife but was still unsure of where to hide it. She had considered leaving it in the Slytherin Dorms with one of the other Slytherins such as Millicent Bulstrode, another of the detested group, but had realised that to frame a witch was rather more difficult. Sure, Tom Riddle had done it to Hagrid but Hagrid was the outsider, Millicent although only a half-blood _did _come from an old pureblood family and had friends in powerful families, they would make sure veritaserum or some other such device was used to prove her innocence. Besides Hermione was no Lord Voldemort.

As they went through the day Hermione kept hearing rumours about it she knew though that not all their information was right.

"Blood everywhere, she was covered"

"gashes, stabbed all over"

"Cut her throat"

"her silver skin laced with blood"

"her body's hardly damaged, not Avada Kedavra though"

"Horrid, her room's full of gore"

"Pure blood spilt, I don't believe it, what a waste it's worth more than gold"

"Only one cut, some sort of special spell"

Even teachers; she overheard Professor Sprout talking to Madame Hooch

"I didn't notice anything odd , I stayed late out at the Greenhouses though, only strange thing was the number of crickets I could hear I mean I don't usually pay much attention to divination but…"

She heard the whispers all day. Harry and Ron for their own part were pretty interested too.

"I mean I don't like the girl, but a murderer in Hogwarts!"

"I know, have you heard the stories, what do you think they actually did to her?"

"I don't know, but how did they get in?"

Eventually she burst in "For goodness sake, a girl's dead, _dead, she may have been an evil cow but even so she merits some respect in death not to be treated like a freak show"_

_And with that she stomped off._

"_Don't know what's wrong with her" Ron murmured "they were hardly best friends were they?"_

"_Don't you get it, someone in Hogwarts has been killed, anyone could have been killed Ron, it could have been Hermione or Ginny" replied Harry._

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_A/N: Ok that was Chapter 2, hope it went ok, I was unsure about writing Harry or Ron as I've never done Ron (or canon Harry) before. Although this fic is obviously AU I'm trying to keep people as IC as possible._

_Flying Spaghetti Monster, at your request Luna will be written in the next chapter._


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: I've finally written another chapter, school and "real life" have held me up. So it's clear this story isn't really set in any Harry Potter year, no Voldy either (maybe he hasn't been resurrected yet?) but I do envisage them as in one of the older years and they do know Luna. On that note, for FlyingSpaghettiMonster, Introducing Luna Lovegood._

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It was when they were coming out of their last lesson that's she looked to her right and caught sight of a familiar dirty blonde haired girl.

Now Luna Lovegood was not a violent person by nature. She been not have been rational but she was certainly calm. In fact had she been a Slytherin Hermione would have thought that she did it deliberately to infuriate. Still, she was not and seemed to just have a particularly thick skin. Although she supposed it could be Ravenclaw intellect which calculated that it was not viable for one person to fight back against many others and instead ignored them which had the added benefit of being annoying. Luna therefore she concluded would be a difficult job to recruit to her plan no matter how much her class held her back.

While still looking at Luna a plan suddenly crystallised in Hermione's mind. She turned on her heel, leaving two very confused boys in her wake, "Library" she called back. Before joining the queue waiting to be escorted there, for the school seemed to have suddenly halfway though the day realised the murderer was possibly in the school and had reinstated the teacher escorts they had had in second year.

Now, in the library there was a table where they always had magazines, including the Quibbler usually to Hermione's disgust but this time to her advantage. Now her hopes lay in whether or not they kept past issues.

Gritting her teeth she approached the front desk. Madam Pince was not known for her friendliness although she did tend to be quite nice to Hermione, probably recognising a fellow bibliophile.

"Um, Do you, that is by any chance keep old copies of the magazines?"

"Honestly do you expect me to keep lots of old issues, you kids never read them anyway. I suppose I could see what we still have, What did you want?"

Hermione lowered her voice "The Quibbler, one with Crumple-Horned Snorlacks in, it's for a" She thought furiously "home work, on inaccuracies in media reporting of magical creatures, I mean I would never read it for my own interest of course"

The Librarian cut her off "Here, take it, I have it because I _read _it, I would have thought an intelligent young witch like yourself would see past prejudice."

Hermione felt rather embarrassed, how was she to know that Madam Pince was a Quibbler reader.

Still Hermione quickly turned to the page with Crumple Horned Snorlacks while making sure she still had her copy of "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them" with her. Now Hermione since becoming a witch had discovered that many creatures whom she had previously thought creatures of peoples' imagination existed. However not all of them did and some of the muggle "sightings" of them where in places and climates in which there was very little chance of them being. This she had decided meant that the theory she had discovered on her ninth birthday; that many supposed mythical creatures were in fact amalgamations or mistakes of real creatures; was indeed true. And wizards Hermione reasoned were after all not intrinsically different to muggles, the same weaknesses probably applied to them too. She quickly leafed through the book jotting down possibilities a grin spreading ever wider across her face. Sure she had explored all the possibilities, Hermione joyfully packed she books and almost ran to catch up with the queue waiting to go to dinner.

Having gone though her dinner very impatiently she dashed over to the Ravenclaw table.

"Luna? Could I talk to you?"

"You already are, I rather surprised I didn't think you much liked me Hermione, your mind is too closed"

"Yes, well, erm that's just it" She thought quickly " I'd like to you know, apologise for everything. I mean I've realised Crumple Horned Snorkacks exist and I'd like to see one. Well not one myself, but you know Millicent Bulstrode in my year? She claims that they're not real and I was wondering if you could send her one, in the holidays, at home, to prove it"

"Snorkacks are quite dangerous, Hermione"

"I know! She deserves to meet one she's a horrible person"

"Anyway Hermione people have never found a snorkack, I could do a Heliopath though."

Heliopath, Hermione thought quickly, probably from Helios-a greek sun-god, a spirit of fire then?

"That would be perfect"

"And Hermione, if you wanted my help in your plan, you only had to ask, I know you didn't really believe."

"Wait, what's in it for you?"

"She has a friend with whom she staying this winter, her sister Astoria is one of my worst tormenters. She needs to be opened to the world. It is rather more a dream than a remembrance to me when the Lovegoods were respected the Wizarding World and her family has done much of the damage. It used to be I think almost like having friends. Though my reason is against this fury I will take part"

And that Hermione thought showed that you never really knew someone. She had certainly underestimated Luna Lovegood.

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_I hope you enjoyed it, I'd like to thank Corazie, Vitamin Crack, Maxlovely, FlyingSpaghettiMonster and PhysicsLuverrrr for reviewing._


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